


Boys of Summer

by SharkGirl



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Beach, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Beach House, Best Friends, Childhood Friends, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Friends to Lovers, Garrison Trio Shenanigans, Hance - Freeform, Happy Ending, Heith - Freeform, Hunk (Voltron)-centric, Light Angst, M/M, Multi, Pining, Polyamory, Shance (Hunk's POV), Sheith (Hunk's POV), Slow Burn, Summer, Summer Love, Summer Romance, Summer Vacation, Surfing, shklunk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-05-16 17:21:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14815605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SharkGirl/pseuds/SharkGirl
Summary: “So, I’m pretty sure this is going to be the best summer ever,” Lance finished, falling back onto the sand and pillowing his head with his hands. He sighed contentedly, his shirt riding up just the slightest bit to reveal his smooth, tan stomach. Hunk quickly averted his gaze.“Yeah,” he replied, studying the dried kelp that had gotten caught between his toes, the thought of unsupervised shenanigans with Lance, Pidge, and older, able-to-drink people making his head swim and his stomach churn. Not to mention having to watch Lance flirt with said older people. This was definitely going to be the worst. He flicked the seaweed back onto the sand. “Best summer ever…”ON HIATUS - Back October 2018





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all!! I'm back with another pining slow-burn fic for you~ This time we've got a Hunk-centric Shklunk fic (that's Shiro/Keith/Lance/Hunk) and I'm so excited for it!  
> I promised I'd wait until June 1st to post the prologue and we're _nearly_ there, so, here it is!
> 
> Inspired by [The Boys of Summer](https://youtu.be/YKZSaH9GVH4) by Don Henley, this is a fic about Hunk pining after his childhood friend, Lancey Lance, who tends to fall in and out of love fairly easily. The Holts - old summer-time buddies of theirs - come to visit for vacation and bring some friends along. Enter Shiro and Keith. Once again, Lance is enamored. And Hunk is a bit dazzled himself. With the whole summer ahead of them and college mere months away, will Hunk finally confess? Or will he find someone new? (Or both!)
> 
> Beta'd by the fabulous Ghost and Jes~ They are my enablers and I love them dearly ♥  
> I plan on updating weekly, since that worked so well for [Lion Whisperer](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13579992/chapters/31169301) (Shklance, Zoo AU)

Hunk was staring out into the inky blackness of the ocean at night. He could hear the surf from its short distance away, but only caught sight of the breaking waves if they drew close enough, the light from the bonfire reflecting orange against their frothy sea green.

“This is it,” said a voice from beside him, getting his attention. Hunk turned to see Lance, his best friend of nearly a decade and a half, looking up at the sky and its thousands of visible twinkling stars. The warm glow of the fire danced against his tan skin, casting flickering shadows. “The best summer ever,” he finished before facing Hunk and flashing a bright smile.

Hunk raised his brows. “Okay, I’ll bite…” He leaned back on his hands, mirroring Lance’s position, the damp sand sticking to his palms. “Why is that?”

“I dunno, I just…” Lance sighed, deep and dreamily. “You ever get, like, a feeling?” he offered, his eyes searching Hunk’s, dark now, but Hunk knew their color by heart. The same blue as the ocean. “Like,” Lance went on when Hunk didn’t reply. “Like something big’s going to happen?”

Hunk pursed his lips, breaking eye contact with Lance in favor of watching a crab scuttle toward the water to wet its gills for the night. He knew Lance was still looking at him expectantly, so he threw out an answer. “I guess?”

“ _Huuuunk…_ ” Lance whined, making a show of throwing his head back dramatically. “Work with me here, man.”

“I’m not sure what you want me to say.” Hunk gave a shrug before digging his big toe into the sand. Things always got weird on the beach at night. Even though Hunk and Lance knew each other like the backs of their hands – Kindergarten besties for life! – when they were out on the sand, the waves crashing in the distance, and the fire crackling beside them, things got…strange. Alien.

Of course, that might just have been for Hunk. Lance could very well have been completely unfazed by it all. The atmosphere, the stars, the gentle swaying of the palm trees in the wind, which blew almost cool enough to chill if the sand wasn’t still so hot from baking in the sun all day.

But Hunk felt the difference. In the way the warm glow of the fire illuminated Lance’s smiling face. Or his pout. Or that soft expression he got when he was completely relaxed. And Hunk noticed this, of course, because he was unbelievably and completely head over heels in love with his best friend.

Very much unrequited, of course.

Friendships like theirs were rare. And Hunk had seen Lance go through enough breakups and heartaches to know that he was A. Not his type and B. Never going to be the cause of that painful expression Lance often wore when his heart had been broken.

Not that Hunk planned on breaking his heart. But that was neither here nor there. Because, when it came down to it, he was too scared to even mention it. He couldn’t risk losing what they had, after all. Cliché as it was – and Hunk knew all about that from his older brothers’ collection of RomComs, a little tidbit of knowledge he’d take with him to his grave, lest he invoke the wrath of two six-foot-plus, nearly five hundred pounds combined, professional little brother squishers.

Sometimes it was hard being the baby of the family.

But back to the point. Hunk loved Lance. He’d loved him since the fifth grade when Lance stood up for him when Hunk told the recruiter from middle school that he didn’t want to join the wrestling team. Or maybe it was back in second grade when Lance performed top notch first aid after Hunk fell off his skateboard and skinned both knees, an elbow, and the palm of his other hand.

Or maybe he’d been in love with Lance since forever. From the first day they met and Lance found him by himself on the playground and asked if he wanted to play dinosaurs – as long as he could be the t-rex.

But whether it was in pre-school or high school, Hunk loved Lance. And he still did. Even now as they were entering their eighteenth summer. He was hopeless.

“-since they’ll be here tomorrow,” Lance’s voice broke him from his thoughts.

“What?” Hunk blinked.

“The Holts,” Lance repeated, looking a bit put out. “Have you been listening to anything I’ve said?”

Hunk bit his lip, ducking his head sheepishly.

Lance rolled his eyes, but it was a fond gesture. Then he leaned closer and bumped their shoulders. “Okay, let’s try this again, big guy,” he said with a chuckle. “Pidge said they’re coming back tomorrow.”

He perked up at that. It was always good to see their old friend. She and her family had a timeshare not far from where both he and Lance lived and they’d been coming to visit Arenoso Beach for the past five years, at least.

They met Pidge by accident – when Lance mistook her for a drowning child – and they’d been close friends ever since.

“Matt’s coming this year,” Lance went on.

Matt was Pidge’s older brother. He’d visited before, too, of course, but Pidge was closer to Lance and Hunk in age. They both liked Matt a lot and got along with him well enough – except for that one summer when Matt made the mistake of flirting with Lance’s older sister Veronica and Lance spent the rest of the season glaring daggers at him and spying on his every move.

“And he’s bringing his college friends!” Lance finished giddily.

Matt was almost finished with his second – or third? – master’s degree. Pidge liked to joke that her brother was a ‘lifer’ when it came to school, but Hunk could appreciate his passion and dedication. Even if endless studies weren’t exactly his idea of fun. He was more of a hands-on kind of guy.

“Just imagine,” Lance continued, wrapping an arm around Hunk’s shoulders and fanning his hand across the sky. “Hot, older girls!”

Hunk snorted before he could stop himself. “You honestly think _Matt Holt_ brought _girls_ with him…on their family vacation?”

Lance faltered for a moment, his lower lip poking out. “Well, fine. Hot, older _guys_ , then,” he corrected as he released Hunk from his hold. “And besides, Mr. Head-in-the-Clouds,” Lance paused, crossing his arms over his chest, “You missed the part where I said their parents weren’t coming.”

Hunk’s eyebrows shot up. “It’s just Pidge and Matt?”

“And Matt’s older, cooler friends,” Lance added with a devious grin. “We’ve got the whole house to ourselves for the entire summer. No parents. No rules.”

At that, Hunk’s deep-seated, law-abiding conscience screamed in panic. Being the son of a cop did that to you. And Lance, wonderful and fun-loving as he was, always seemed to push Hunk toward the less-than-legal. Within reason, of course.

“So, I’m pretty sure this is going to be the best summer ever,” Lance finished, falling back onto the sand and pillowing his head with his hands. He sighed contentedly, his shirt riding up just the slightest bit to reveal his smooth, tan stomach. Hunk quickly averted his gaze.

“Yeah,” he replied, studying the dried kelp that had gotten caught between his toes, the thought of unsupervised shenanigans with Lance, Pidge, and older, able-to-drink people making his head swim and his stomach churn. Not to mention having to watch Lance flirt with said older people. This was definitely going to be the worst. He flicked the seaweed back onto the sand. “Best summer ever…”


	2. The Three-Headed Monster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The infamous trio reunites and Hunk and Lance meet Matt's college friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there!! I'm aiming to update this every Friday, so...wish me luck! So far, I'm on track, haha.
> 
> The previous chapter was the prologue, so it was significantly shorter than the rest. All the others should be closer to this length.  
> Beta'd by the wonderful and fantastic Ghost and Jes! (Love you guys!!!) ♥  
> Please enjoy~

The next morning, Hunk was awoken by frantic tapping at his window pane. He didn’t need to open his eyes or hear the muffled excited, half-whispered shouts from its other side to know who had made himself Hunk’s personal alarm clock today.

Slowly, Hunk rolled over and rubbed at his face before pulling himself out of bed and lumbering over to the window. He undid the latches and slid it open – with some difficulty, it was old, after all – and came face-to-face with the unfiltered and beaming form of his best friend.

“Lance,” he greeted sleepily.

“You’re locking your windows again?” Lance asked casually as he hoisted himself up and over the sill before gracefully landing on his feet. “Were you watching one of those unsolved crime shows again last night?” he questioned, his tone was joking and his smile teasing, but he had just a hint of concern shining in his eyes.

“No…” Hunk looked off to the side. He wasn’t lying. But he’d remembered that one story about the killer who sneaked in through open windows at night and hastily got up and locked his an hour or so after he’d walked Lance home. “It was late when we got back,” he threw out as an excuse.

Lance hummed and nodded, scanning the room as if he hadn’t just been there the day before. He plopped himself down on Hunk’s bed, falling back onto the mattress and pillows with a contented sigh.

Hunk stared down at him, taking in the way Lance wriggled around until he’d made himself comfortable, his face half in Hunk’s pillow pile. “So…” he cleared his throat, hoping to get Lance’s attention. “You seemed pretty eager to get in-”

“Oh, yeah!” Lance sat up, nearly knocking their heads together. “Pidge is here!”

“She is?” Hunk blinked and reached for his phone. He was pretty sure she’d messaged the night before that she was going to be there around lunchtime.

“Well, not yet, but it’s today!” Lance replied giddily, bouncing on Hunk’s bed a few times before crossing his legs under him and beaming.

Hunk smiled at his unbridled enthusiasm. “That excited to see her, huh?”

“Well, yeah,” Lance supplied, his cheeks tinting just the slightest bit pink. “I do miss that little gremlin from time to time.” He toyed with a loose thread from the comforter and then cleared his throat. “Plus, Matt’s bringing his college friends and I can’t wait to meet them!”

It was like a bubble had burst inside of Hunk. Of course, he tried his best not to show it. He was interested in meeting Matt’s friends, as well. After all, any friend of his was a friend of theirs. But he also wasn’t exactly looking forward to watching Lance ‘put the mack on’ – his words – the older girls or guys the Holts had taken with them.

“Unsupervised shenanigans are going to ensue on this most awesome of nights,” Lance declared, completely oblivious to Hunk’s inner turmoil. Then again, Hunk had spent so long hiding his feelings, he must have gotten pretty good at it. “What did you tell your parents?” Lance asked, blue eyes wide and expectant as they stared into Hunk’s.

Hunk smirked and answered with a question of his own. “What’d you tell yours?”

“That I was hanging out with you,” Lance said with an easy shrug. “And you said?”

“I was keeping an eye on you.” The moment the words were out of his mouth, Lance’s face crumpled and he fell back onto Hunk’s bed with a groan.

“Huuunk…” he complained. “They’re going to know what we’re doing…” He buried his face in the blanket and let out a sound akin to a dying sea mammal.

“Uh, yeah, that’s why I told them?” Hunk offered. “Besides, cop family,” he said. “They’d know what I was doing even if I didn’t tell them.”

“True,” came Lance’s muffled response. He drew back, taking in a huge gulp of air. “But still.”

“Listen, it’s fine,” Hunk promised as he took a seat beside him, rubbing Lance’s back in soothing circles and trying desperately to ignore how warm it was, the heat of his body soaking through his thin t-shirt. “We can still be all rebellious and wild.”

Lance turned to regard him over his shoulder. “Ah, yes. Hunk ‘Rebellious and Wild’ Garrett. I’d forgotten,” he scoffed, but arched his back to get Hunk’s hand rubbing where he wanted. He sighed again, pillowing his chin with his crossed arms. “I guess it’ll still be fun.”

“Dude, we’re getting the Trio back together,” Hunk said, giving his back a final pat to signal he was done. “It’ll be a blast.”

Lance sat up again, smiling from ear to ear. “You’re right.” Then he shot up out of bed. “C’mon. Let’s go.”

Hunk remained, the mattress squeaking under him. “Go where?”

“Out,” Lance replied, opening Hunk’s third dresser drawer and tossing him a pair of trunks. “I need to go boarding or surfing or something. I’m all keyed up.”

Impatient as always. But that was his Lance, after all.

“Yeah, yeah,” Hunk said, taking his sweet time getting back up and enjoying the way his best friend squirmed.

“Huuuuuunk,” Lance demanded, knowing exactly what he was doing.

“Okay.” He chuckled. “Now, turn around unless you want to get an eyeful.”

“Ugh, you prude.” But Lance acquiesced, folding his arms over his chest and facing the wall. “Not like it’s anything I haven’t seen before.”

Ignoring the pang he felt in his chest at that and the questions it brought up – What did that mean? Was it a sight he didn’t mind? Did he want to see him? Or was he just being Lance? – Hunk quickly got dressed and then called out to him. “Ready.”

“Good!” Lance turned around and grabbed his arm, hastily dragging him out of the bedroom and down the familiar hallway to the stairs.

“But…what about breakfast?” Hunk asked as he stared back at the kitchen forlornly.

“We’ll eat on the way,” Lance said and then quickly added. “My treat.”

Wow. He really was keyed up. Well, Hunk would allow it. It was their last meal together before Pidge and Matt – and the others – arrived. He might as well enjoy it. “The Shack?” Hunk offered hopefully, his mouth already watering at the thought of one of their breakfast scrambles.

Lance stopped for a moment and glanced over his shoulder, an amused grin curving his lips. “Yeah. Sure, buddy.”

 

After filling their tummies and waiting thirty minutes – thirty minutes, Lance, why do we have to go over this every time, man? – both Hunk and Lance headed out toward the surf.

As much as Hunk wanted to bring his board, he didn’t feel like carrying it to the restaurant. Plus, Lance had been in such a hurry, he hadn’t had a chance to grab it. So, they made do with the two boogie boards they kept hidden under the old wooden stairs of the boardwalk.

It was fun, of course. Lance had a way of making everything fun. And time passed quickly. Before Hunk realized it, it was past noon and the food trucks had already started pulling up across the street. His stomach gave a traitorous grumble – didn’t I _just_ feed you? – but he knew they had plans with Matt and Pidge for lunch.

“Is that the time?” Lance gasped, checking his own waterproof watch – the one his older brother Marco had gotten him for his sixteenth birthday. “They’re probably already here!” he said, clapping Hunk on the back with a wet slap and wading toward the sand. “C’mon!”

Hunk shook his head and smiled fondly. Pidge would laugh if she knew how excited Lance was to see her. But he was excited, too. It had been a whole three seasons since they’d been the Three-Headed Monster and some hanging out time was seriously overdue.

They stowed their boards and slipped on thin button-up shirts – left unbuttoned of course – just enough to say they weren’t _technically_ wearing just trunks. This would be their uniform for the rest of the summer. Always had been. Then they made their way down the familiar sandy path toward the summer house.

The Holts’ vacation home was really nice. Then again, both their parents were super egghead scientists – Lance’s words – so it made sense that they could afford such a place. And unlike Hunk and Lance’s childhood homes, which were beach adjacent, the Holts’ was beach access with a back deck that led straight out to the sand.

There were five rooms, including the master, and at least three bathrooms. It was hard to tell because Hunk had ever only used the downstairs one and the upstairs one once during a slumber party where they actually made it to the bedroom.

Normally, Mr. and Mrs. Holt would bid them goodnight and the three – and occasionally Matt, too – would stay up late watching monster movies or trashy romances – Lance’s favorite – while stuffing their faces with popcorn and nachos and playing everything from Uno to Truth or Dare – Hunk’s least favorite – until they eventually passed out in a pile on or near the couch.

But this year was going to be different. Mr. and Mrs. Holt were not going to be present. It was just going to be Pidge, Matt, Hunk, Lance, and Matt’s friends in the spacious vacation home with no supervision and no rules.

They were good kids, though. Well, adults, technically speaking. Except for Pidge, who had also just graduated, but was a year and a half younger than both Hunk and Lance. But Matt was a mature college guy. Hunk was certain he’d be the responsible one.

When they arrived at the front door, they spotted the Holts’ old station wagon in the driveway. And walking just behind it with a backpack nearly twice her size was –

“Pidge!” Lance shouted and broke into a run, nearly trampling the flower bed in his excitement to see their friend.

“Wait. Lance. Hold on!” Pidge held her hands up, but Lance had already grabbed her around the waist, lifting her up – despite the heavy-looking bag – and spinning her around. “Ugh, put me down. I’m going to hurl,” she managed.

“Oops. Sorry.” Lance set her down and rubbed the back of his neck. “I guess I was just a little-”

“Excited?” Pidge finished for him, adjusting her glasses, which had gone slightly askew during Lance’s ‘attack.’ “It’s fine,” she added, a small smile curving her lips. “I missed you, too.”

By then, Hunk had made his way over, carefully side-stepping the begonias and greeting Pidge with a much less enthusiastic, but just as loving bear hug.

“You both got taller,” she mused with a slight frown. “What the hell?”

“It’s called puberty and we hit ours quite some time ago,” Lance offered before patting her on the head. “I’m sure once you go through the change, you’ll-oww oww oww!” He winced, yanking back his hand and cradling the two fingers Pidge had started to bend backwards. “It was a joke, Pidge. Damn!” Lance brought his fingers to his lips before pulling back and inspecting them for any permanent damage.

“Serves you right,” Pidge said, sticking her nose up. “Anyway, since you two are early, you can help us unload.”

“Sure,” they said in unison, though Lance sounded a bit reluctant, still nursing his injured hand.

“Is that Hance, I see?” Matt called from the garage, waving at them as he made his way over.

“Hance?” Hunk quirked a brow.

“You know,” Matt offered, holding both hands out. “Like, Hunk and Lance.” He brought his hands together like he was making a sandwich. “Hance.”

Lance snorted. “That’s dumb.” And Hunk was about to agree with him, but then he continued. “It should be Lunk.”

Pidge snickered at Hunk’s loss of words before shoving her oversized rucksack into his arms. “Bring this up to my room, would ya?”

“What should I get?” Lance asked, but Pidge was already circling behind him, picking up her laptop and hopping onto his back. He easily caught her legs, but reared back when she wrapped her free arm around his neck.

“You can be my legs,” she said, resting her chin on Lance’s shoulder.

“Ugh, seriously?” Lance glared at her, but the look held no real anger. “Fine,” he complied and started walking toward the open garage door. “But next time Hunk gets to be a leg, too.”

Hunk just caught Pidge asking, “How would that even work?” before the two disappeared into the house.

“You know,” Matt said from beside him, catching his attention. “I always thought those two would end up together.” He shook his head, a fond smile on his lips. Then he elbowed Hunk in the ribs, shooting him a wink. “But I guess I should have known better.”

“Uhh…” Once again, Hunk was at a loss. But a sudden realization had him changing the subject. “Are your friends already inside?” he blurted, probably too quickly to sound conversational. But Matt took it in stride.

“They’re following behind,” Matt said. “We took separate cars just in case they needed to head back before summer’s end,” he explained. “But Shiro’s never been good with directions.” He laughed. “I’m sure they’ll get here before dinner, though.”

And Hunk wasn’t sure if he was joking or not.

“Anyway,” Matt went on. “Let’s get this car unloaded and then I’ll order us some pizza. Sound good?”

Hunk’s stomach gurgled loudly at the promise of sustenance and Matt chuckled.

“Guess that’s a ‘yes’.”

 

The inside of the Holts’ beach house was just as Hunk had remembered it. It was decorated in the typical seaside motif, with large conch shells and light teal and peach-colored ceramic starfish stuck to the walls. It was almost as if they’d bought everything in that particular year’s issue of Better Beach Homes & Gardens.

But it was nice and familiar and Hunk had made plenty of wonderful memories inside these walls.

“Hunk, what’s your damage?” Pidge called from the top of the stairs. Lance was just down the hall, leaning heavily on the railing that overlooked the living area.

“Yeah. Pidge says she’s got gifts for us,” he said with a huge grin.

Hunk adjusted the bag on his shoulder and headed for the stairs. “I got distracted. Matt says he’s ordering pizza.”

“Yes!” Lance cheered, throwing his arms up in the air and running back into Pidge’s room.

“He’s a giant child,” Pidge said with a sigh. “I don’t know how you put up with him,” she added, shooting Hunk a look.

“I manage,” he offered, giving a slight shrug.

“I’ll bet you do,” she replied, a knowing smile splitting her face.

Of course, she knew. She’d known longer than Hunk had. Or, well, longer than Hunk had been admitting it to himself, anyway. Pidge may not have been the social butterfly Lance was, but she could pick up on things. And Hunk’s gargantuan crush was one of them.

“Yeah, yeah,” he bumped her with his hip when he reached the top of the stairs, nearly sending her sprawling on the plush carpet of the upstairs hall. “So, Lance said you have gifts?”

Pidge just smirked, her eyes glinting mischievously as she walked past Hunk and into her room. He sighed and readjusted the strap of her heavy bag before following her lead.

When they walked inside, Lance was lounging on Pidge’s bed – a habit of his, it seemed – and flipping through one of her old magazines. But he set it to the side, perking up the moment they walked in. “Okay, so what are they?” he asked, crossing his legs under him and biting his lower lip.

“What are what?” Pidge responded coolly before passing him and pretending to organize things on her desktop.

“Katherine Pidgeotto Holt,” Lance began sternly, earning a miffed look from Pidge in his direction. She was clearly not impressed with his attempt at guessing her full name. “You’d better not keep us waiting.”

A tense moment passed before Pidge rolled her eyes and snorted. “Fine,” she relented. “Hunk’s got them in my backpack.”

In the blink of an eye, Lance was off the bed, bounding toward him and leaping in the air. Hunk barely got out a startled squawk before he found himself with an armful of Lance. He took two staggering steps backwards and then lost his footing, falling onto his butt and taking Lance down with him.

They lay there for a moment, a tangled pile of limbs, until Lance began squirming, trying to right himself and get to the backpack at the same time. “Ah-ha!” he said finally, pulling out two wrapped packages and holding them up triumphantly. He looked quite pleased with himself.

Hunk, on the other hand, was having a crisis. Lance was in his lap, his legs straddling his hips and their chests brushing. One hand was still on Hunk’s shoulder, keeping Lance from falling onto him completely. And, up until this moment, Hunk had forgotten that they weren’t wearing much more than still-slightly-damp swim trunks.

“Yes!” Lance, thankfully, hopped off of him, choosing to sit a few feet away with his back against Pidge’s bed. He inspected the presents before tossing one of them toward Hunk and then hastily tearing into his own.

Hunk stared dumbly at the small package now in his lap – where Lance had been just seconds earlier – and blinked. Then, when Lance let out a long groan, he snapped out of his stupor and opened his gift.

Once the light green wrapping paper was out of the way, he got a clear view of his present, still in the box and wrapped tightly in plastic. It was –

“A calculator? Seriously, Pidge?” Lance moaned, letting his head fall back onto her mattress.

“Not just any calculator,” she corrected, adjusting her glasses. “It’s a graphing calculator. The-” but Hunk finished for her.

“It’s a TI-84 Plus CE,” he gaped, turning the box over in his hands. “Whoa, Pidge, this is too much.”

“It’s too much, all right,” he heard Lance mutter from beside him.

“Think of it as an early college present,” Pidge said with a wave of her hand. “Or a late graduation one,” she offered.

“Still.” Hunk stared down at his calculator. He definitely needed a new one – especially after he’d accidentally partially cracked his hand-me-down’s screen during the SATs – nerves – and the liquid crystal had started to bleed onto the display. He slid his hand along the length of it. She’d picked out a gold one for him. “This is amazing.”

“Yeah. Amazing,” Lance echoed, rather disappointedly. He’d already taken his out of the package – it was blue – and was messing around with it. Then, after a moment, his face lit up, his lips quivering with barely contained laughter. “Hey, guys. Look!” He held it out for them to see, his screen littered with several choice words, most of them completely inappropriate for middle school, let alone college. “You can write dirty words on this thing.”

“I can’t help but feel I’ve made a terrible mistake,” Pidge mused. “Well, since you didn’t like it, anyway, I guess I’ll take it back.”

“What?” Lance gasped, cradling the calculator against his chest. “No way! It was a gift!”

Hunk shook his head as the two argued back and forth. He’d missed this. It was their last summer here. Well, he was sure they’d come home to visit, but it would be…different, somehow. And he wanted this to last.

A second later, Matt poked his head into the room, a bright smile on his face. “There you are!” he said. “I ordered the pizzas. They should be here in about twenty minutes.”

Pidge and Lance cheered, their fight momentarily forgotten, and they all three followed Matt downstairs to set the table – a habit from having meals in the house with Mr. and Mrs. Holt around – and then plopped down on the couches to wait for their food’s arrival.

 

“It’s been almost an hour…” Lance complained. He was draped over the sofa, his head hanging off the arm rest and one leg thrown over the back. “I’m starving…”

“It’s been forty-five minutes,” Pidge corrected, though her tone was verging on hangry.

Hunk’s stomach growled loudly, causing both of them to look his way and snicker. He ducked his head, flushing hotly to the tips of his ears. “Shut up,” he managed, though they hadn’t actually said anything.

“I wonder what’s keeping them…” Matt frowned, checking his phone.

“Maybe your order was too complicated,” Pidge offered, her position on the couch almost mirroring Lance’s. “Or maybe they thought it was a prank.”

“I’ll have you know that plenty of people like avocado on their pizza,” Matt returned, crossing his arms over his chest and sitting down in the recliner.

“Yeah,” Pidge replied. “But not with pineapple, olives, sausage, and green peppers.” She pulled a face and Lance echoed it.

“Pineapple is good!” Matt insisted. “Hunk, come with me on this one.” He turned toward him, golden eyes imploring.

“Listen,” Hunk began, holding his hands up. “I’ll come with you on a Hawai’ian pizza, but that combination is just…uh…” he floundered.

“Don’t drag Hunk into your sick, twisted choice of toppings.” Pidge shook her head.

“Yeah,” Lance piled on. “And you call yourself Italian.”

“Half!” Matt threw out, but just as he opened his mouth to say something else, the doorbell rang.

“Finally!” Lance shot up out of his seat. “I’ll get it,” he called over his shoulder before Matt even had a chance to say a word.

Pidge seemed content to lie in wait until he returned with their feast. Hunk, however, knew that Matt had probably ordered quite a bit – they were still expecting two more, after all – so, he got up to go help Lance carry them all in.

When he arrived in the foyer, Lance had already opened the door.

“Boy, am I glad to see you,” Lance said. Hunk peered around his shoulder. In the doorway was a man, probably around their age, with rather unkempt dark hair and even darker eyes. He was holding what were easily six pizza boxes and obviously struggling. “Here,” Lance interrupted Hunk’s thoughts, “let me take those.” He grabbed the boxes from the other guy’s hands.

“Oh, thanks. They were getting kind of-”

“And I have no idea what took you so long, but it probably wasn’t your fault, so…” Lance reached into his pocket, balancing the stack of pizzas on one arm, and pulled out a few soggy bills. He handed them to the other man.

“Wait.” He blinked down at the wadded up cash. “What are you-”

“And maybe next time wear a nametag? Can’t leave a good review otherwise,” Lance offered. “And do something with that mullet you’ve got working.” He clicked his tongue and shook his head. “Not very professional at all, I’d say.” Then, before the other man could say another word, Lance shut the door and faced Hunk. “Let’s get these to the table.”

“Sure,” Hunk said, taking the pile and, with one last confused glance toward the door, he followed Lance into the kitchen.

They arrived a moment later to find an additional person added to their party. Lance had seen him first and Hunk only realized when he nearly ran into his best friend’s back. The other was frozen, his eyes wide as he took in Matt’s friend.

He was tall, muscular, and from what Hunk could tell peeking between the boxes and Lance’s head, he was very handsome.

Lance turned toward him, mouthing ‘Oh, my God,’ before he waltzed into the kitchen. “Food’s here!” he announced. “Hey, Matt,” he sidled over. “Who’s your friend?”

Hunk released a sigh and followed, setting the boxes down on the counter and purposely avoiding whatever look it was that Pidge was trying to send his way. He was so intent on ignoring her that he missed most of the introduction.

“But my friend’s call me Shiro,” the man said, offering his hand to Lance. Hunk’s eyes widened – as did Lance’s – at Shiro’s prosthesis. He’d never seen one in person before and he was pretty sure Lance hadn’t either. “Oh.” Shiro made to draw his hand back, but Lance grasped it firmly in his, giving it a hearty shake.

“It’s nice to meet you, Shiro,” he said, all smiles. “I’m Lance, Pidge and Matt’s summer friend,” he joked with a laugh. “And this is my best friend, Hunk.” He gestured toward him and Hunk offered his own hand, careful when he took Shiro’s. The last thing he wanted to do was accidentally break something.

He’d been told before that he didn’t know his own strength. Case in point, his old, bleeding calculator. Not that Shiro’s arm was anything like his ancient adding machine, but-

“So, anyway,” Lance interrupted his thoughts once again. “The pizza’s finally here, so let’s eat.”

“Speaking of which,” Shiro said, looking around the room. “Where’s Keith?”

“Keith?” Lance asked.

“Wasn’t he with you?” Pidge added before Shiro could answer.

“Well, yeah,” Shiro offered. “But it looked like it was going to rain and I didn’t want the pizzas to get wet, so I dropped him off at the front.”

Slowly, realization dawned on Hunk. And he watched in slow motion as Lance stiffened beside him.

“Your friend Keith,” Lance began, swallowing. “Is he about my height, maybe a little shorter, with a really unfortunately shaggy haircut?”

Matt snorted at that, but Shiro kept his composure. “He could use a trim, yes.”

“I may have, um…” Lance dug his toes into the grout between kitchen tiles. “Sort of thought he was the pizza delivery guy?” He ducked his head sheepishly, but then cocked it to the side, offering an apologetic grin. “I gave him a good tip, though!”

“What? Where is he now?” Shiro asked, drawing his brows together.

“Probably still on the front step?” Lance shrugged and, as if on cue, there was a loud banging on the door. “And…someone should probably get that.”

Not wanting Lance to face an irritated – and probably wet by now – Keith, Hunk volunteered. “I’ve got it,” he said and then quickly walked over to the door. There was a small overhang, but he knew from experience that it did little to stop the rain from soaking you if the door wasn’t opened immediately, especially during an afternoon summer storm.

Hunk grabbed a towel from the linen closet on his way and then opened the door. “Hey,” he greeted, handing it to their now-drenched house guest. “You must be Keith.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enter Shiro and Keith! (and Matt and Pidge, too, haha)  
> Oh man, way to go, Lance. Poor Keith! But don't worry, I'm sure things will blow over.
> 
> See you next week! And don't hesitate to chat with me about any of the ships or this AU~♥ (I might talk your ear off, though, hehe)


	3. Pizza and a Movie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hunk and Lance get to know the Holts' guests and Keith shows his gratitude.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How about some pining and flirting to distract everyone from the feels (or the spoilers) of S6?
> 
> A note regarding Shiro's prosthesis: Yes, I do know that there are different types and different technologies and he certainly could have brought along one that would be able to go in the water. But removing it in this chapter and the next is his personal preference.
> 
> Oh, and once again, Keith is lactose intolerant. Because I am and I feel like he would get just as pissy as I do, hahaha.
> 
> Beta'd, of course, by the lovely Ghost and Jes~♥  
> Thanks for the movie title, Jes!  
> Please enjoy!!

After some quick explanations – and Keith running upstairs to change into dry clothes – the six settled themselves around the kitchen table and began to eat.

“Ugh, I still don’t know how you can eat that,” Lance grimaced as Matt took a bite out of his fifth slice of sausage, olive, pineapple, green pepper, and avocado pizza.

“Don’t knock it till you try it,” Matt returned through a mouthful of cheese and toppings. “It’s an acquired taste.” He swallowed and turned toward his friend. “Right, Shiro?”

“Uh…yeah.” Shiro coughed into his hand and went back to his own slice of spinach and mushroom. Hunk figured Shiro’s choice was good enough, but when ham and supreme were options, there were some very obvious winners.

“That looks pretty healthy,” Lance mused, pointing at Shiro’s pizza from his place across from him at the table. “I’m more of a meat lovers guy, myself,” he said, leaning heavily on his elbow and grinning wide. “But I can go either way.” He waggled his brows and Pidge made a show of rolling her eyes from beside him before reaching for another slice and ‘accidentally’ knocking his hand out from under his chin. “Ouch.” Lance rubbed his arm and shot her a glare, which she ignored in favor of biting into another slice.

“What kind is that?” Keith asked, drawing Hunk’s attention from Lance’s griping. The other man was gesturing toward Hunk’s plate.

“Oh.” Hunk blinked. “It’s supreme. It’s got pepperoni, ham, beef, pork sausage, Italian sausage, red onions, mushrooms, green peppers and black olives.” As he listed them off, he watched Keith’s eyebrows slowly rise up to his hairline. “Yeah, a mouthful,” he joked. “Want to try a slice?”

“Uh, sure.” Keith handed Hunk his plate. “Sounds good.”

“Don’t forget to take your medicine,” Shiro chimed in, earning a quiet, but clearly frustrated growl from Keith.

“Yes, _Dad_ ,” he bit as he took his plate back from Hunk.

“I won’t be the one who regrets it later if you don’t,” said Shiro simply, ignoring the annoyed expression on his friend’s face.

Hunk looked between them, trying to think of something to say to diffuse the situation, but Lance took care of it. More or less.

“What kind of medicine?” Lance asked curiously, giving up on poking Pidge in the cheek to return to the conversation.

“Keith is-”

“Fine!” Keith interrupted Shiro, standing up abruptly, his chair legs scraping loudly on the tiled floor. “I’ll go get them.” And with that, he walked over toward the stairs.

“What was that about?” Lance stage-whispered.

“Keith is pretty severely lactose intolerant,” Shiro replied.

“I can _hear_ you!” Keith called from upstairs.

“Yeah,” Matt went on with a snort. “Tears him up pretty bad.”

Lance and Hunk bit back their laughter – a valiant attempt at not being rude – but Hunk just felt bad. He couldn’t imagine a world where he couldn’t enjoy pizza and milkshakes whenever he wanted.

Keith returned a moment later with four pills in his hand. He popped them into his mouth and swallowed them, downing half his glass of water. Then he turned toward Shiro. “Happy now?”

“I know you will be later,” Shiro offered, taking a sip of his own drink.

After that, things grew quiet as the six finished their meal. But, as with most silences, it was broken by none other than Lance. For which Hunk was grateful.

“So, you guys all go to school together?” he asked, very obviously trying to make it seem like he wasn’t looking at Keith.

“Yeah,” Matt answered. “Shiro and I were roommates sophomore year and now he’s stuck with me.” He laughed. “Keith just started last fall, though. I only know him through Shiro.” He turned and smiled at their other guest. “Great guy, though,” he added.

“Oh, I thought he looked closer to our age,” Lance said, never one to have an unexpressed thought. It usually got him into trouble, but his honesty was also one of the things Hunk loved about him. One of the many, many things.

“Lance and Hunk are starting college this fall, same as Katie,” Matt explained for him.

“But not all of us are kid geniuses,” Lance said, wrapping an arm around Pidge’s shoulders and pulling her close. “We’re both eighteen already.” That was said directly to Shiro and Hunk had to stop himself from frowning. Lance was the most obvious person he’d ever met.

He loved that about him, too.

“I’m only a year younger than you,” Pidge complained, shoving his arm off of her.

“A year and a half,” Lance corrected.

Before Pidge committed murder in cold blood, Hunk decided to interject. “Why don’t we move into the living room and watch a movie or something?” he suggested. “Just until the rain stops?”

“Good idea,” Lance cheered and Hunk’s chest swelled with pride. “We never did finish They Came from Beyond the Blue Grove.” He held his hands up, wiggling his fingers. “I need to know if he gets the girl or not.”

“The hero or the monster?” Pidge quirked an eyebrow.

“Either one.” Lance shrugged. Then he turned toward Shiro and Keith. “You guys like old black and white monster movies?”

If they didn’t, they were polite enough to at least nod and that seemed to be enough for Lance. He hopped up from the table and led them over to the living room. The others followed, but Matt stopped at the threshold, looking over his shoulder.

“Hunk, you coming?” he asked.

With one last lingering look at the way Lance’s face lit up at whatever it was Shiro had said to him, Hunk shook his head. “I think I’ll clean up a bit in here first.”

“Okay, man.” Matt frowned. “If you’re sure.”

“It’s no big,” Hunk replied with a wave of his hand. “I’ve seen the first forty-five minutes of that movie six times by now. I’ve practically got it memorized.”

Matt smiled at that, seemingly content with his answer. “You guys normally conk out before the ending, huh?” And Hunk nodded. “Okay. We’ll see you out there in a minute. Just leave the dishes in the sink.”

Hunk took his time consolidating the pizzas and putting the boxes into the nearly empty fridge. They’d definitely need to go grocery shopping before dinner or, at the very least, breakfast the next morning. And he and Lance still needed to go back to their houses to get their overnight bags. They’d been out all day and hadn’t gotten a chance to pack.

“Need any help?” Hunk jumped, nearly dropping the plate he was rinsing when Keith appeared just a few steps away from him. “Oh. Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Hunk said, his heartbeat still thundering in his ears and his face burning. “I was just lost in thought, is all.”

“Yeah.” Keith stood there a moment, waiting. And when Hunk didn’t answer, he continued. “So, you got that okay or…?”

“Oh.” Hunk flushed again. “Yeah. I’ll be done in a sec.”

But instead of leaving, Keith just sat on one of the barstools at the tall counter, watching Hunk load the dishwasher. “Thanks,” he said after a beat. “For earlier,” he clarified. “The towel and, uh, letting me in.”

Hunk chuckled. “No problem,” he replied. “And sorry again for Lance and me thinking you were the pizza delivery guy.” He placed another dish in the rack. “Matt didn’t tell us you guys were picking the order up.”

“It’s all good,” Keith said. “I mean, I didn’t exactly care for the impromptu shower, but.” He gave a little half shrug. “I’m not mad or anything.”

“Cool.” Hunk smiled and he would have let the easy conversation continue, but Lance called him from the other room.

“Hunk!” he shouted over the cheesy soundtrack. “You’re going to miss the first death scene!”

“Guess we’d better get in there,” Hunk said with a shake of his head, drying his hands on the dishtowel. “I’ve only seen this guy get eaten six times.” Keith raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything as he followed him into the living room.

Lance was sitting with his butt on the very edge of the sofa cushion, his legs bouncing and his eyes wide as he took in the monochromatic masterpiece on the screen. Pidge was beside him, perched on the arm of the couch. Matt was in the recliner – his dad’s usual spot until he fell asleep and snored loud enough to warrant their mother walking out of the bedroom and waking him up to ‘leave the kids to their fun.’ And Shiro was on Lance’s other side. Though, there was space enough between them for Hunk to sit.

“You take the couch,” Keith said before Hunk had a chance. “I’ll sit on the floor.”

“What?” Lance finally tore his gaze away from the screen. “No way. There’s room enough for all of us.” He squished himself closer to Pidge, nearly knocking her over. “C’mon.” He patted the empty cushion beside him.

Hunk hesitated for a moment, but then took the offered spot, Keith slipping in between him and Shiro. It was a tight fit, but not uncomfortable. And ashamedly, Hunk enjoyed the justification for being pressed right up against Lance’s thinner body. He was so warm and his heat seeped through the thin over shirt he wore, soaking into Hunk’s skin.

And when Lance let his head fall onto Hunk’s shoulder, a yawn escaping as they reached the beachside massacre scene, that heat spread to his chest.

 

“I knew it!” Lance said loudly, waking Hunk. He wasn’t sure when he’d dozed off, but he opened bleary eyes to see the credits rolling. “I totally called it,” he said.

“This movie is almost seventy years old,” Pidge replied, shoving him off of her and closer to Hunk. “Despite the storyline being completely predictable, you could have just looked up the ending online.”

“Oh, what’s this I hear?” Lance asked, cupping a hand to his ear. “Is that jealousy in your tone, Pidgey? Perhaps because I was right and you guessed wrong?”

“Don’t feel too bad, Katie,” Shiro said from the other end of the couch. “I didn’t see that coming, either.”

“It’s bad storytelling,” Pidge agreed with a nod of her head.

“Sorry, the monster always gets the girl.” Lance held his hands up. “I don’t make the rules.”

“First of all, that is not even remotely true.” Pidge pinched the bridge of her nose. “And secondly-” but Matt cut in.

“Hey, I think it’s finally done raining.” He pointed toward the French doors that led out to the deck. “You guys wanna go swimming?”

“Sure!” Lance and Pidge said together, their argument forgotten. Then Lance turned toward Hunk. “We should go get our boards.”

“Boards?” Shiro asked. “As in surfing?”

“Oh, didn’t I tell you?” Matt began, stroking his chin. “Hunk and Lance are only the best surfers in all of Arenoso.”

Hunk ducked his head, but Lance puffed his chest out proudly.

“We’d totally be down for giving you lessons, if you’d like,” Lance offered.

“I might take you up on that,” Shiro replied with a smile.

“Great.” Lance beamed. “We’ll just run home real quick and grab our stuff.” He stood up, stretching his arms over his head. “C’mon, Hunky. We’ve got to show these inlanders a thing or two.” He held his hand out and Hunk took it, his heart fluttering treacherously when Lance gave his fingers a little squeeze. “We’ll be right back! Don’t start without us,” Lance called over his shoulder as he dragged Hunk out of a second house that day.

Hunk didn’t mind, though. Lance held his hand all the way to Del Monte Street.

 

As it turned out, Lance already had his bag packed. Once again proving that he was more than a little excited for the Holts’ return. He grabbed his old duffel off of his bed and nearly ran into Hunk, who’d only just made it up to his bedroom.

“C’mon,” Lance said, tone verging on giddy. “Let’s grab my board from the garage and then get your stuff.”

Lance had a fast-looking, light blue shortboard that, if he stood it straight up, would just pass the top of Hunk’s head. It wasn’t his first, but it was most definitely his favorite and, had their mothers not decided against them traveling to Hawai’i by themselves two years earlier, he would have used it to participate in the invitational there.

Lance slipped his board under his arm and adjusted his bag on his shoulder, giving Hunk a big grin. “Okay, big guy. On to your house.”

It was a short distance away, as they both lived on the same cul-de-sac. And Lance, having practically grown up there, walked straight up to the garage and punched in the code to open the door. Then, he set his board against the wall and headed inside.

Hunk could only chuckle. He knew Lance was excited, but this was ridiculous. Part of him pretended that his hurry wasn’t so he could get back to Shiro and Keith. But because he was in the mood to get out on the water again after being cooped up inside for a few hours.

Of course, he didn’t really need to kid himself. Surfing was probably a pretty big motivator for his best friend’s current pace.

“Hunk, let’s go!” Lance called from inside the house and Hunk, with a shake of his head, hurried to follow after him.

Admittedly, he’d done little to pack. Little as in nothing at all. He hadn’t even taken his backpack out of his closet.

“Hunk, I’m disappointed in you,” Lance said with a put-upon sigh. “I mean. I told you they were coming today, right?”

“Well, yeah,” Hunk replied with a shrug. “But I fell asleep as soon as I got home and then _someone_ dragged me out of the house the moment I woke up, so…” He quirked a brow in Lance’s direction and just caught sight of the other’s ears turning pink before Lance cleared his throat.

“Well, be that as it may,” he managed, facing away. “Let’s not waste any more time.” And just like that, Lance began rifling through Hunk’s drawers, pulling out all the necessary articles of clothing and packing them neatly – if not hastily – into his bag.

It was funny how at home Lance seemed in his room, holding up two shirts and gazing at them thoughtfully before deciding to pack both. It was nice. Domestic, even. And it made it so easy for Hunk to picture them off at college, doing the exact same thing. Only, instead of Lance barging into _Hunk’s_ room, he’d already be there, sleeping just opposite of him in _their_ room.

A sudden feeling of dread soured that particularly pleasant thought as Hunk realized something. He’d be sleeping in the same room as Lance – if they got their desired room assignments, which were, as stated, not a guarantee for incoming freshman – and, every night, they’d go to sleep together. And, every morning, they’d wake up together.

All of that would normally sound wonderful, but Hunk wasn’t thinking about the pros at the moment. No. He was thinking about how he was going to continue to hide his decade-plus-long crush on his best friend if they were living under the same roof.

What if Lance wanted to invite a girl over? Or, even worse, what if Hunk had one of _those_ dreams with Lance just on the other side of the room? It wasn’t like he had them often, but he was a hot-blooded young male, after all. And statistically, if Lance was there _every_ night, there was a chance he could hear him and-

“ _I said_ ,” Lance began, pulling Hunk from his thoughts. “That should do it, right?” He was looking at Hunk with a rather curious expression on his face. “You okay, buddy?”

“Yeah,” Hunk lied, swallowing thickly before he awkwardly rubbed at the back of his neck. Then he thought up a quick excuse. “Just thinking about how best to teach them to stay on the board.” He made it believable. “I mean, you remember when we tried with Pidge, right?”

“I remember a black eye, a fat lip, and bright green water wings, yes,” Lance replied, his thumb coming up to unconsciously rub at his lower lip. “But that’s in the past.” He waved his hand in dismissal. “Let’s hurry up and head back, okay?”

“Sure,” Hunk said as the tension released from his shoulders. He didn’t need to be worrying about unnecessary things now. There were tons of other things that needed his worrisome attention.

Despite it being summer break, all of their parents were at work, so it was an easy escape back out through the garage. Hunk shouldered his bag and reached up for his board. It was still technically a short board, even though it was a full foot and a half longer than Lance’s. It was white with yellow near the rails. It had been a birthday present from his family, but Lance had picked it out, so that made it all the more special.

“I was just thinking,” Lance said from beside him, his gaze on the other boards hanging in the garage. “Shiro’s about your height, right?” he mused. “Do you still have your old longboard?”

Hunk and Lance were definitely more advanced when it came to catching waves. And longer boards _would_ make it easier for newer riders.

“I think it’s back behind my brothers’,” Hunk answered, passing his board to Lance so he could use both hands. After some sorting and a near death experience – Lance was overreacting, honestly – he managed to get it down.

“And I figure Keith can just use mine,” Lance went on before picking up Hunk’s backpack and putting it on. Hunk was about to object, but Lance held his hand up. “I’ll get the bags and my board. You carry the other two.”

Hunk knew better than to argue, so he just nodded.

“Great.” Lance smiled again, his entire face brightening and his eyes glittering with ill-concealed excitement. “Let’s head back!”

 

When they returned to the Holts’ summer home, Matt and Shiro were already outside. Apparently, Keith and Pidge had run to the store for some dinner supplies – Lance had consoled Hunk the moment he heard, knowing that he would have wanted to go – and while they were gone, Matt and Shiro had begun setting up the volleyball net.

“I thought we could play between surfing lessons,” Matt offered.

“Sounds good to me,” Lance said, placing his board down and turning toward Hunk. “I’m just gonna run our stuff inside, okay?”

Hunk nodded and Lance was gone in a flash. This left him alone with Matt and Shiro. Which, wouldn’t be too uncomfortable, he thought, except for the fact that Shiro was now shirtless. And, yeah, he was just as muscular as one might imagine.

It was hard to keep from staring at his chest, so Hunk tried to distract himself by arranging the boards on the sand.

“Wow,” Shiro said, sounding much closer than before. “Those are a lot longer than I thought they’d be.”

“It’s not the size that counts,” Lance interrupted, having returned from dropping off their bags. “It’s how you use it.” He winked and Hunk’s face grew unfairly warm. Lance was shirtless now, as well, clad only in his dark blue trunks, the planes of his tan chest and flat stomach in full view. “Do you wanna get started or wait for Keith?”

“I…don’t think Keith will be joining us,” Shiro replied with a chuckle as he scratched at his cheek. “He hasn’t really expressed an interest.”

“Aww, really?” Lance frowned, his whole face falling at the news.

“But I’m still up for a lesson,” Shiro supplied, visibly lifting Lance’s spirits. “That is, if you’re still offering.”

“Of course!” Lance beamed, reaching for his board. He walked closer to Shiro and then stopped. “Oh, are you able to um…” He vaguely gestured toward Shiro’s prosthesis. “In the water, I mean?” It was awkwardly put, but Shiro seemed to understand nonetheless.

“Ah, yeah. I can get it wet, but I can’t submerge it or anything.” If he was embarrassed by the question, his face didn’t show it. “Let me just run inside real quick and then we can start?”

“Sure,” Lance said with another smile. “I may have to adjust my teaching technique, but we’ll get you balanced and riding the waves before sundown.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Shiro returned with a smile of his own. “Besides,” he added as he began walking up the wooden stairs to the deck. “I’m not one to back down from a challenge.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, y'all! So, S6 dropped today (yes, I binged it all at once this morning, haha) And I know that a lot of people are going to be recovering from that, so I'm going to skip next week for my chapter update (so everyone gets a chance to catch up on all their bookmarks and such)
> 
> I would have skipped this week, but I didn't give any warning, so, after this update, I won't be posting until the following Friday. I apologize for the delay, but it just feels like the right thing to do. (Not that this particular niche fic has a HUGE following to let down, haha - but I love every single one of my readers ♥)
> 
> Thanks in advance and see you on the 29th!


	4. Hunk Cuddles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fry sauce and s'mores, how the Trio met, and lots of Hunk and Keith bonding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, I'm back after giving the post-S6 madness a chance to calm down, haha.  
> Actually, updating every two weeks isn't so bad. Would anyone be opposed if I stuck to that schedule?
> 
> Beta'd by the fabulous Ghost and fantastic Jes!! ♥  
> Please enjoy~

When Shiro came back to the beach, he and Lance picked up their boards and headed for the surf. Hunk opted to stay behind and wait with Matt for Keith and Pidge’s return from the grocery store. It was for the best, really, because – in addition to avoiding what was surely a flirty surfing lesson out on the waves – Hunk discovered that neither Keith nor Pidge knew where anything went in the kitchen.

Keith, he understood. He was a guest. But Hunk gave Pidge a slow shake of his head.

“Listen, I subsist on a steady diet of microwave meals and my mom’s cooking,” she explained and then followed with a quick, “It’s not like cooking was a requirement for my scholarship.”

Hunk sighed and helped the two put the groceries away. Keith at least managed to pick out some good ingredients. It looked like they were going to have burgers and hotdogs for dinner – a perfect beachside meal, if he and Matt could get the grill going – and Pidge presented him with a two bags full of s’mores essentials.

“I got the square marshmallows that fit the graham crackers better,” she defended. “Because, what are we, animals?”

“I can’t remember the last time I had s’mores,” Keith said, a fond little smile curving his lips.

“Well, get ready, cuz Hunk makes the best!” Pidge said proudly, giving Hunk a quick slap on the back.

“Oh, really?” Keith lifted a brow and smirked. “Guess we’ll just have to see about that.”

A familiar sensation tingled in Hunk’s belly as he accepted. Like when Lance would challenge him to a race on the beach or when Pidge would offer up a problem and see which one of them could solve it first. “I guess we will.”

 

The three walked outside to find Matt checking the air in their volleyball. He waved when he saw them on the deck. “Just about ready!” he shouted over the sound of crashing waves behind him.

Hunk looked out onto the water, where Lance was showing Shiro the proper way to get up onto your knees without slipping off of the board. Shiro fell a few times, but, instead of getting discouraged, he just laughed, splashing Lance when the other said something to him.

“Should we play first or get the grill ready?” Keith asked, drawing Hunk’s attention back on land.

“Well, we’ve got some time before dinner,” Hunk said as he checked his watch. “And, if you want to have a proper s’mores competition, we should really set up the fire pit.”

“Yes!” Pidge and Matt threw their arms up in excitement. It would take a bit more work than getting charcoal going, but the Holts had plenty of wood stored beneath the deck and it would be a lot more fun to cook their hotdogs over an open flame – the burgers, Hunk could do ahead of time inside or save for the following night.

“I’ll help,” Keith offered, when Pidge left to assist Matt with the now-drooping volleyball net, leaving Hunk to get the firewood.

“Thanks,” Hunk said, a stack of wood piled up almost to his chin. “Just grab a few more and then we’ll get this thing going.”

Keith nodded and did as he was told and, in no time, the fire pit was ablaze.

They left the flame to play a quick set with Pidge and Matt. Now that the volleyball net was perfectly level – if not a little too low. “I’m not as tall as you,” Pidge had insisted, stopping them from adjusting the height.

It was fun. Matt and Keith were on one team, while Team Punk served up some whoppers. Not a one of them was particularly good and Hunk ended up with Pidge on his shoulders so she could spike the ball. They played to twenty-one – more or less, they lost count – and then called it quits when the sun sunk low, dipping toward the horizon.

“You guys look like you’re having a blast,” Lance said as he and Shiro returned, both dripping wet and smiling wide. Hunk had to tear his gaze away from their glistening bodies, but managed to distract himself by skewering a few of the franks. “Hotdogs?” Lance asked excitedly. “Sweet!”

“Yeah and since neither of you helped, you can go inside and get the buns,” Pidge ordered, crossing her arms over her chest. Lance and Shiro shared a laugh, but followed her orders. “And don’t drip on the floor!” she called after them.

Hunk peeked up, watching them walk together and not missing the way Shiro slapped Lance on the back before they disappeared into the house.

“Do we need anything else?” Keith asked from beside him, once again pulling his attention away from his jealous pining – because, really, what else would one call it?

“Ah, did you guys get condiments?” Hunk replied. “I don’t remember putting them away.”

“We got ketchup and mayonnaise,” Keith said. “I wasn’t sure what everyone wanted.”

Hunk grimaced. “No mustard?” If he’d learned anything about his best friend during their decade and a half long relationship it was that, even above chili and cheese, his favorite hotdog topping was mustard.

“Guess we forgot,” Pidge added, plucking one of the skewers from Hunk’s grasp and taking a seat in the sand. “Get ready for the thunder…” she joked and, half a second later…

“Okay,” Lance began, his bare feet slapping on the deck as he marched his way over. “What doofus got ketchup and mayo, but no mustard for hotdogs?” He held the condiments out accusingly, his thin brows drawn down.

“Uh…” Keith began, but Pidge was quick to cover.

“That would be us,” she said, twirling her dog, which was burning on one side. “Slipped my mind.”

“Are you telling me there’s nothing to put on my hotdog, save for fry sauce?” he gaped, shaking his head slightly in disgust.

“It’s called mayochup now, actually,” Pidge corrected, her attention on her skewer.

“I can go out and get some mustard, if you’d like,” Shiro offered, following behind him, the bag of buns in hand.

“Oh, no. That’s okay.” Lance turned around, his anger melting away. “I just figured Pidgey knew better, that’s all.”

Hunk snorted, but covered it up by clearing his throat when Pidge looked his way. “C’mon, guys,” he called over to them. “Hurry up before the Holts eat them all.”

“Hey!” Matt frowned from the other side of the fire pit, his skewer overloaded with at least five hotdogs.

They all laughed and things seemed to calm down after that.

 

With the hotdogs devoured and the s’mores competition underway, the six began swapping stories. Hunk had just finished perfectly caramelizing his marshmallow, when Shiro said something that caught his attention.

“So, how did you all meet?” he asked, gesturing between the Holts, Hunk and Lance.

“Ah, now _that’s_ a story,” Matt said with a snicker. “But I should probably let Lance tell it.”

Hunk knew this story by heart. Not just because he had witnessed it, but because whenever they all hung out on the beach, Lance would inevitably tell it to the newer, vacationing kids in their group. It was his favorite boasting story – and not that he’d admit to using it to get anyone’s number – it _did_ work four times out of five.

“Okay, okay,” Lance said, pulling his burning marshmallow from the fire and blowing it out. “So, it was five years ago on a night very much like tonight-”

“It was in broad daylight,” Pidge corrected before chomping into what was quite possibly her eighth s’more.

“Geez, I was just trying to set the mood.” Lance rolled his eyes and continued. “Anyway, Hunk and I were scoping out the beach to see if there were any cute out-of-towners,” he explained, not ashamed in the least. “When all of a sudden, I see what I _believe_ to be a child struggling to keep their head above water.”

Hunk took his opportunity to gently elbow Pidge in the ribs. Like she didn’t know where the story was going. She gave him a hard shove back, but only succeeded in nearly knocking herself over.

“So, I tell Hunk to get the lifeguard and I head straight for the waves. Cuz, ya know, the rip current can get really strong,” Lance went on. “And I swim out to her and grab her under the armpits so I can pull her back to shore.” He sighed. “But she’s struggling and trying to pull away, which is weird, since I’m saving her life and all.”

“Allegedly,” Pidge corrected, pushing her glasses up and then pulling a face at her sticky fingers.

“Well, turns out, she’s not drowning at all,” Lance said. “She was just trying to hide her new bathing suit.” He shook his head.

Hunk turned to gauge Keith and Shiro’s reactions. They both blinked in surprise, turning curious gazes on Pidge.

“Okay, you don’t know the whole story,” she said, popping an untoasted marshmallow into her mouth. “It was my first two-piece, okay? I wasn’t really comfortable in it and Matt thought I was just being shy, so he stole my cover-up and ran off. So, I did the only logical thing,” she paused, downing another mallow. “I ran into the ocean.”

“It was hilarious!” Matt said. “I almost felt bad-” He cut himself off, holding his hands up when Pidge threw a graham cracker at his face. “Okay, I _did_ feel bad,” he amended. “And I was going to head out and give it back, but this skinny tan kid came running up and dove into the water like a super hero and I just sort of…let it happen.”

“Yeah. Would have been nice if you’d told him I wasn’t drowning.” Pidge side-eyed her older brother.

“I was in shock, really. It all happened so fast.” Matt took a bite out of the graham cracker and shrugged. “Plus, I figured it would be a cool story to tell the grandkids.”

“Ugh, will you stop with that?” Pidge groaned, burying her face in her hands.

Lance reached around Hunk and gave her a comforting pat on the back. “Anyway,” he said, returning to his seat. “When I realized she wasn’t in danger, I apologized and gave her my towel so she wasn’t exposed anymore.”

“Wow,” Shiro said, his eyes still wide. “That was…really brave of you. I mean,” he paused to smile, “You thought she was drowning and dropped everything to save her.”

Lance ducked his head, his blush evident even in the low, flickering light from the fire pit. “I’m sure anyone else would have done the same,” he said, averting his gaze and digging a finger into the sand.

Hunk had heard Lance tell that story a hundred times and watched him flirt directly after, but, for some reason, this particular instance stung more than usual. Maybe it was because Shiro wasn’t just gushing at him, but actually genuinely awed by Lance’s bravery.

Heck, when Hunk returned with the lifeguard and saw Lance calming a wet and upset Pidge down, he’d been enamored, as well.

“So, that’s how it happened,” Pidge said, standing up and dusting the sand off of her shorts. “Anyway, it’s getting late.”

“Going to turn in?” Shiro asked.

“Hardly,” Pidge replied, her face splitting in a devious grin. “Who’s up for some Truth or Dare?”

Hunk blinked, raising his brows. “Uh, I thought we weren’t allowed to play that anymore. Not since-”

“Yeah, yeah.” Pidge waved him off. “But what Mom and Dad don’t know, won’t hurt them.” She turned. “Right, Lance?”

“Actually…” He bit his lower lip. “I’m with Hunk on this one.” Her face fell at his response. “It does tend to get out of hand.”

“You guys are no fun,” she complained, plopping back down onto the sand. “So, what do you suggest?”

It was silent for a moment before Matt spoke up. “We could always play some board games?”

 

The Holts had a closet full of Rainy Day Games that the four of them used to play pretty often during summer storms.  Their favorites being Jenga and Twister. But, for the night, they ended up picking Monopoly – Fisher Scientific Edition – and playing until they could barely keep their eyes open.

Pidge won.

 

Matt retired to the master bedroom first. Then Shiro and Keith walked upstairs to Matt’s old room. Pidge, who had fallen asleep counting her fake money, was now leaning against a slumbering Lance, both of whom were on the floor, their backs against the front of the couch.

Hunk shook his head fondly, grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch, and draped it over them. Then he turned toward the doors leading to the deck. He’d made sure to properly extinguish the fire pit earlier, but he wanted to go back out and make sure he hadn’t missed anything – wrappers, etc. They were always very cautious when it came to beach cleanliness and safety.

Besides, he was feeling keyed up for some reason and finding it hard to even think about going to sleep.

He walked outside, shutting the doors behind him, and made his way over to the stairs. The dark, inky water was lapping up against the sand in the distance, the sound soothing. He was going to miss being so close to the ocean when they went off to college.

After making sure their site was clear of debris, he took a seat, facing the water. He could stay like this all night, listening to the waves and letting the cool night air clear his head.

But the creaking of the wooden steps behind him startled him out of his relaxed state. He whipped his head around, unsure of what to do if there was an attacker, but calmed when he saw a newly familiar face. “Keith?”

That made more sense than a Deck-to-Deck Murderer.

“Hunk.” It wasn’t a question. Then again, Keith had walked by everyone else inside, so by process of elimination, Hunk was the only one left. “Couldn’t sleep?” he asked, making his way over.

“Just not tired,” Hunk explained. “You?”

“Same.” He hesitated for a moment. “Mind if I join you?”

“Go right ahead.” Hunk scooched over, as if there wasn’t an entire beach worth of sand to sit on, and patted the spot beside him. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just…time change.” Keith took a seat and brought his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around his legs and resting his chin on top of them. “This is nice, though.”

“Yeah,” Hunk agreed and turned his gaze back out toward the ocean. “I always feel at ease near the water. Lance, too,” he added without thinking.

Keith made some sort of noncommittal humming noise before he cleared his throat. “So, you and Lance…” he began, releasing his legs and leaning back to rest on his arms. “You guys together…or...?” He let it hang and it only took a second for Hunk to realize he’d brought up his best friend without meaning to.

“Oh, no. Lance and I…we’re, um,” he floundered, his face growing warm. “We’re not like that, just…friends. Best friends.” He could have smacked himself. He was making this awkward. It was bad enough that Pidge – and probably Matt – knew about his stupid little – read: gigantic – crush. But he didn’t need Keith finding out about it. “Since pre-k, ya know?”

“Gotcha,” Keith replied with a little nod. Thankfully, if he picked up on anything, he didn’t let it show. “So, there’s nothing between you… romantically, I mean?”

“No!” Hunk said a little louder than he would have liked. He lowered his voice. “What would give you that idea?”

Keith turned toward him and raised an eyebrow, his face illuminated by the moonlight shining from above. “You don’t try very hard to hide it,” he said flatly and Hunk really did considering smacking himself this time.

“Ugh,” he groaned, rubbing at his face with a hand. He didn’t want to look over at Keith, so he kept his face covered. “It’s that obvious, huh?” he asked, muffled by his palm.

“Not to Lance, I don’t think,” Keith said. “Of course, I’m not exactly good at reading people.”

Hunk would have argued that, clearly, he was. But maybe his crush on Lance was even more blatant than he’d realized, so he kept that to himself.

“He likes Shiro,” Keith said after a beat. “Lance does.”

And then suddenly it hit him. Hunk finally removed his hand, turning wide eyes on Keith. “Oh, no. Are you and Shiro…?”

To his surprise, Keith just chuckled. “No.” He shook his head. “Shiro…” He sighed, tilting his chin and looking up at the stars. “Shiro only sees me as a kid brother…”

There was a certain sadness to his words. A longing. An emotion that Hunk understood intimately well.

“Oh,” Hunk said.

“Yeah,” Keith replied. “Seems like we’ve got something in common.”

They sat there for a moment, only the sound of the waves breaking the silence. Then Hunk finally mustered up the courage to speak. “We’re both pretty hopeless, huh?”

Keith smiled, his gaze still directed upward. “Maybe.” Slowly, he reached out, his fingers brushing Hunk’s against the sand. “But, I think you’ve got a chance. More than I’ve got, at least.” Keith gave Hunk’s hand a reassuring squeeze and, to his surprise, his stomach did a little flip.

Odd. But, then again, it was late and Hunk was probably more tired than he felt.

“Anyway, I just wanted to check,” Keith said, pulling Hunk from his thoughts. He stood up and turned toward the stairs. “Because I’m pretty sure Shiro likes Lance, too.”

Again, there was that expression on Keith’s face. The one Hunk knew and understood so well. He got up, getting the sudden urge to hold the other, but before he got a chance, a voice interrupted them.

“Hunk?” And, whether out of habit or not, Hunk’s heart skipped a beat. He looked up to find a sleepy-looking Lance at the top of the stairs to the deck. When Lance spotted them, he seemed to relax. “I thought you’d be out here.”

Hunk swallowed, not daring to let his gaze drift over to Keith. He felt guilty somehow. Like he was doing something he shouldn’t.

Lance yawned, one hand gripping the stair rail and the other rubbing at one of his eyes. “I carried Pidge up to her room,” he said, drowsily taking a couple steps down. “Come inside?”

This time Hunk did look to Keith, but the other met his gaze dead on, only lifting his brows slightly, as if to say, ‘Do you need my permission or something?’

Suddenly, it was as if Lance had only just realized that Keith was there. “Oh.” He blinked groggily, waking up some. “Am I interrupting?”

“No, no!” Hunk waved his hands in front of him. “I was just cleaning up and Keith came out to, to talk.” Again, he felt like he’d been caught. Doing what? He wasn’t sure. But there was a heavy feeling in his chest and, like a stone, it sunk to his stomach. He felt two pairs of eyes on him, but his own gaze was firmly set on the dark sand at his feet.

“Oh, okay.” Lance yawned again. “Then, Keith, can I steal Hunk back?” he asked, turning toward the other man. “Cuz now I’m by myself and that couch isn’t very comfortable without my favorite pillow.” He faced Hunk, smiling brightly. “Come to bed with me? I could really use some Hunk Cuddles.”

Hunk hesitated a moment, feeling guilty for another reason now. Maybe it was because Shiro hadn’t come out to find Keith. And Shiro certainly hadn’t come out to ask Keith for his own brand of cuddles. But, when Hunk glanced over at him, Keith’s lips were curled up in an odd little smile and before Hunk could say a word, Keith mouthed, ‘Just go,’ before heading toward the stairs, himself.

“I should get to bed, too,” Keith said as he passed Lance. “I’ll see you two in the morning.”

“Sure,” Lance replied and then perked up just a bit more. “You’re in for a treat,” he said to Keith. “Hunk makes the best waffles!”

“Is that right?” Keith asked, much like he had earlier with the s’mores, and peeked back at Hunk over his shoulder. “Sounds good.” And then he was gone, across the deck and into the house.

“C’mon,” Lance said, startling Hunk by gripping his hand. Hunk wasn’t even sure when he’d managed to ascend half the steps, but he was now level with Lance. “Let’s get inside. It’s kind of chilly.”

Hunk nodded, instinctively giving Lance’s hand a squeeze. “Sure. You got it, buddy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keith is pretty bold, huh? Hmm...  
> More surfing lessons (on the sand this time) and flirting to come!


	5. Breakfast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hunk dreams and Lance nearly kicks the bucket (not really)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know what you're thinking? And, yes, this is really late.  
> I actually have some news. In addition to posting several other projects, I delayed updating because this will be my final chapter until after my hiatus. I'm not sure how long I'll be out, but it'll be starting next month and will probably last until October. Hard to say. I'm totally fine and this is actually a really good thing, but I'm going to be SUPER busy during this time.
> 
> I appreciate your understanding and patience.
> 
> As always, beta'd by the fantabulous Jes and cheered on by the beautimous Ghost~♥  
> Please enjoy!

Hunk was humming happily to himself as he cracked two more eggs and let them fall into the bowl. The delicious aroma of sizzling bacon filled the kitchen and he knew it was only a matter of time before someone woke up and wandered in. And, as if on cue, he heard the soft padding of bare feet on the floor just behind him.

“Good morning,” he greeted without facing away from his work. “Sleep well?”

“I did,” Lance replied, voice still a bit raspy. “But then I woke up alone.” He was pouting. Hunk could tell by his tone.

“My bad,” he said, biting back a fond smile. “But I had to get breakfast started.”

“Yeah, yeah.” There was the scratching of stool legs against the tile, followed by a very definite plopping of a body onto the cushioned seat. “So, what are we having?”

“French toast and bacon,” Hunk replied, getting only a quiet hum in response. So, he went back to whisking the eggs up with some milk, vanilla extract, cinnamon and sugar. Then he paused when two long, rather lanky arms wrapped themselves around his middle. “I’ll burn the bacon,” he warned, though he was certain he could multi-task.

“I was so lonely,” Lance said, burying his face in the back of Hunk’s shirt and breathing deep. “I don’t like when you leave me.”

“I know,” he apologized and, when Lance released him, he turned around to look at him properly. But when he did, his mouth went dry. Lance was standing there, wearing the shirt Hunk had worn yesterday, and little else. “La-”

“Come back to bed,” Lance pleaded, jutting his lower lip out. “I didn’t get my fill of Hunk Cuddles.” He pressed closer, causing Hunk to bump into the counter. “You’ve got to pay me back,” he said, walking his fingers up Hunk’s chest and batting his eyelashes. “With interest.”

“Uh…” Hunk tried and failed to swallow. Then, the scrumptious aroma of bacon took a turn. It was burning. “Lance, the bacon-”

“You can just make more.” He leaned close, his lips just a fraction of an inch away from Hunk’s. “Please?”

And Hunk, almost falling over, placed his hand behind him to steady himself, but knocked the pan onto the floor in the process, the sound resonating through the entire kitchen.

He blinked open his eyes, dazed for a moment. Blearily, he took in his surroundings. He was in the Holts’ summer home, lying on their couch. There was a warm body on top of his and a quick glance down showed that Lance was still there, one leg thrown over Hunk’s lap and his face buried in his chest.

Hunk smiled down at him, one hand unconsciously coming up to brush against his cheek. And then he smelled it again. The burning bacon from his dream.

His dream!

He shot up, nearly knocking Lance off of the couch.

“Wha…?” Lance pinwheeled before blindly reaching out for him. “What’s going on?”

“Something’s burning!” Hunk exclaimed before jumping off of the couch and running toward the kitchen.

When he burst in, he spotted the source of the unsavory aroma, as well as some smoke and a less-than-stressed-looking Shiro, who turned around and smiled wide. “Breakfast is almost ready,” he said and Hunk had to rub his eyes to make sure he wasn’t still dreaming.

“Um…” He quirked a brow and, a second later, Lance was behind him, clearly having fully awakened.

“What’s going on in… Shiro?” Lance brushed past Hunk and walked closer, seemingly unfazed by the acrid odor. “What are you doing?”

“Well, I’m an early riser,” Shiro explained before lifting up the pan and sliding several strips of blackened bacon onto a plate. “So, I figured I’d head out to the store and pick up something for breakfast.” He looked down at his handiwork and winced. “I may have overdone them, though. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” Lance danced over, picking up the plate. “There’s no need to apologize,” he said, smiling wide. “That was really sweet. Thank you, Shiro.”

Shiro rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly at the praise, but returned the smile. “I’m not the best cook, so…”

“That’s okay!” Lance said, picking up a strip and taking a bite. If it tasted as awful as it looked, his face didn’t show it. And Hunk felt the teeniest, tiniest twinge of something rather unpleasant churning in his belly at the raw look of adoration on Lance’s face, directed at Shiro. “These are fine! Besides…” He turned toward Hunk and grinned. “Hunk’s our resident chef, anyway. Right?”

It took him a moment to realize Lance was expecting some kind of response. “Ah, yeah,” Hunk offered. “Um, thanks for cooking the bacon…” He glanced down at the charred waste and bit back a grimace. “I was planning on making waffles, so-”

“Great! This can go on the side,” Lance suggested, bringing the plate over to the counter. “If I don’t finish them all first,” he added with a wink in Shiro’s direction. And Hunk had to try really hard to ignore the soft pink blush that spread on the older man’s cheeks.

Really hard. 

“Sounds good,” Shiro replied and then faced Hunk. “I’ll just tidy up a bit, so you have a clean workspace.” He was nice and had really did his best, so Hunk couldn’t find it in him to be mad at Shiro. Jealous? Yeah, maybe. Okay…totally. But not mad.

“Okay. I’ll just start getting some of the-”

“The house is on fire!” Matt screamed, barging into the kitchen with, of all things, a flashlight and an empty sand pail. But he paused, his pajamas askew and his hair a wild mess, as he took in the scene. “The house…isn’t on fire…?”

“No.” Lance shook his head. “Shiro was just making us bacon.”

Matt dropped the bucket, his eyes wide. “You let Shiro cook?”

At that, Shiro frowned. “He didn’t _let_ me-”

“I thought you said you were making waffles,” Keith interrupted, joining them from upstairs and looking quite a bit less concerned than Matt. “It smells like someone let Shiro cook in here.”

“Excuse me. No one _let_ me-”

“Did someone say waffles?” Pidge was the next to appear, her hair even more of a rat’s nest than her bother’s and her glasses crooked. “Because _somebody_ woke me up with their screaming.” She shot Matt a glare. “And now I’m hungry.”

Lance waved his hands in a placating manner. “Hunk was just about to get started on the waffles,” he promised before facing Hunk and beaming bright. “Right, buddy?”

Hunk sighed when everyone turned their expectant glazes his way, but then he shook his head, giving a small smile. “I guess I’d better get going then.”

 

Thirty minutes or so later, Hunk had found the waffle iron, whipped up a quick batter, and had thoroughly cooked enough waffles to sate a hangry Pidge and the rest of their crew. Then he finally took his seat, next to Lance and across from Keith.

“So,” he began, reaching for his fork, “How are they?”

A chorus of yummy noises drifted his way with Lance’s being the loudest. He practically moaned, falling to lean his head against Hunk’s shoulder. “Oh, my God, Hunk. How do you do it?” he asked, glancing up and batting his eyelashes. “Marry me.”

Hunk faltered for a moment, nearly dropping his utensil, and he prayed that Lance couldn’t hear the sudden inhumanly loud and erratic beating of his heart. So, he cleared his throat and managed a normal-sounding chuckle. “You only love me for my cooking.”

At that, Lance pulled back and pouted. “That’s not true!” he argued. “I mean, sure, you’re, like, the best cook I know and-”

“And they do say that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach,” Pidge added, more awake and less grumpy now, before shooting Hunk a knowing smirk.

If Hunk wasn’t such a pacifist…

“They do say that,” Keith piled on and then shoveled another helping of syrupy goodness into his mouth. “And these are really good, by the way.” He smiled almost softly, his lips shiny and a little sticky-looking. “Lance was right.”

“Oh.” Hunk ducked his head, a pleasant warmth filling his belly and coloring his cheeks. He’d nearly forgotten his best friend’s boast the night before. Or was it early morning? Still, Keith had remembered. “Thank you.”

Lance grunted from beside him and suddenly the warmth of his cheek was no longer pressed against Hunk’s shoulder. Lance was now leaning on his other elbow, chatting with Shiro and popping another strip of hideously overcooked bacon into his mouth. Like it wasn’t a crime against pork products.

Hunk immediately missed his warmth and found himself longing for the properly cooked bacon and sweet and spicy French toast from his dream. Along with everything else that came with it.

But he sighed and tucked in. The others were starting to slow down, but there was still a pile of freshly made Belgian waffles in the center of the table and he’d be darned if he was going to let them go to waste.

 

After everyone finished breakfast, Hunk stayed behind again. Shiro had done a pretty all right job tidying up, but the hideous aroma of burnt bacon still clung to the air and Hunk really needed that gone, like, an hour ago. Well, that and the fact that waffle irons – regardless of your skill or culinary prowess – did tend to make quite the mess. And since Matt nor Pidge were very good at cleaning up, he’d volunteered.

This time, Lance had offered to stay behind and help. But Hunk, having listened to Lance go on and on about what he was going to show Shiro today, just smiled and waved him off. He could handle it by himself, after all.

So, everyone else filed out of the kitchen to get changed into their bathing suits while Hunk remained, brow furrowed and tongue poking out as he tried to remove a stubborn bit of batter stuck to the side of the waffle iron.

“You do that a lot,” a voice startled him, causing Hunk to nearly drop the iron.

He looked up to find Keith, shirtless, leaning on the counter and smirking at him. Hunk quickly recovered, turning his attention on the cooked-on mess. “Do what?”

“Clean up after everyone,” Keith said. “The pizza, the fire pit, and breakfast,” he listed off as he took a seat on one of the stools. “You’re going to spoil them.”

Hunk snorted and set his sponge down. “They’re already spoiled.”

“Mhm,” Keith agreed. “Lance, especially,” he added with a teasing lilt. “He filled up on those Hunk Cuddles, hmm?”

Hunk’s face burned. That’s right. Keith had witnessed a half-asleep Lance propositioning him the night before. Of course, that’s all it was. They slept next to each other on the couch – though Lance _had_ used him as a giant teddy bear – but nothing else happened.

“Was there something you wanted or did you just hang around to tease me?” Hunk asked, returning to his work once again.

“I was actually going to see if you wanted any help,” Keith said. “But it looks like you’ve got it under control.” He looked around, eyebrows raised.

Hunk didn’t want to toot his own horn, but in the time it took everyone else to get changed and out the door, he’d rendered the kitchen practically spotless. “Well,” Hunk began, giving up on the iron for now and wiping his hands on the dish towel, “I appreciate the offer.” He grinned and Keith returned the sentiment.

“Hey, if you’re all done, you wanna head outside? I’ll wait for you to change,” Keith offered.

“You go ahead,” Hunk said, removing his apron and hanging it on the hook. “I’ll be just a minute.”

Keith nodded and hopped off of the stool, heading for the doors that lead to the deck. Hunk watched him go. The day before, Keith had kept his shirt on and, despite the slight farmer’s tan he had – nearly negligible, considering how pale he was overall – he didn’t look half bad. He was surprisingly built for as slender as he was, with broad shoulders that tapered to a narrow waist.

Hunk tore his gaze away, chastising himself. Just because he’d been ogling his best friend for goodness knew how long, that didn’t mean he had to stare at everyone. All he needed was for Pidge to catch him once and he’d never hear the end of it.

He shook his head and turned toward the stairs. He’d just quickly get changed and then meet the others.

 

When Hunk walked out onto the deck, he immediately spotted Lance and Shiro on the sand, the former having laid two boards out. He was demonstrating the proper way to shift from kneeling to standing when catching a wave. It was kind of funny to see it out of the water, but that was how both he and Hunk had learned, after all.

“Hunk, what took you so long?” Matt called from beside them, waving an arm wide in greeting. “We were just thinking about grabbing the kayaks,” he said, the volume of his voice returning to a normal level as Hunk descended the stairs and joined them. He and Pidge looked up at him hopefully, but Hunk couldn’t help but laugh.

“Are you two sure you got permission to use them?” he began. “You know, after last time.”

The Holt siblings’ faces soured at the mention and Hunk bit back a snicker.

“What happened last time?” Keith asked and both Shiro and Lance paused their lesson to look over, the former’s expression matching Keith’s curiosity while the latter’s was knowing and nearly devious.

“Oh, you mean when they-”

“Lance, don’t you dare!” Pidge scolded, poking her arm out from the safety of her umbrella and glaring. “I’ll take my calculator back.”

“What?!” Lance gasped, placing a hand over his bare chest, which was slick with sunscreen and a fine sheen of sweat. Not that Hunk was paying attention, of course. “Pidge, that was a _gift_. No takesies backsies.”

“Those aren’t even words!” she returned with a huff, her sunhat flopping down in front of her nose. She flipped it up when Lance snorted at her. “I’m warning you…” she threatened.

“Hey, c’mon,” Shiro interjected, holding his hand up. “I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

“Oh, it’s bad,” Matt added.

“Matt-” but Shiro grew silent at the other’s expression. “Wow. Now I’m kind of curious.”

“Yeah, me, too,” Keith added.

“Well, be prepared to _stay_ curious,” Pidge said with such finality that the others didn’t dare bring it up again.

Though, it looked as if Lance wasn’t going down without a fight. He was clutching his sides, holding back laughter. He was trying so hard, he fell forward onto his board. But, the odd thing was, he didn’t look like he was laughing. In fact, he sort of looked like he was in pain.

“Lance?” Shiro asked, kneeling down beside him, as he was the closest. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Come off it, Lance,” Pidge demanded. “It’s not _that_ funny.” But her words lacked venom at the end. “Lance?”

Lance was curled in on himself, his arms wrapped tightly around his middle and his forehead pressed flat against his board. “Oww…”

The jovial smile fled from Hunk’s face as his stomach dropped and his heart leapt into his throat. He was at Lance’s side in an instant, his hand rubbing circles on his best friend’s back. “Lance, hey,” he called. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“My…stomach hurts…” Lance managed through clenched teeth. “Damn…”

Hunk’s pulse kicked up as he went over the ingredients he’d used. He was certain Lance hadn’t been allergic to any of them. And, even though he’d been a bit distracted, he had followed his standard recipe with practiced ease. Plus, as the others drew nearer, he noticed that none of them were showing any symptoms.

“This is my fault,” Shiro said suddenly, drawing their attention away from Lance’s shaking form. “I knew I overcooked the bacon.”

“ _That’s_ an understatement,” Pidge muttered from Hunk’s other side.

“Yeah, but even if it was a little…overdone,” Matt offered, his gaze shifting from Lance to Shiro and back, “He would have had to eat a lot of it.”

“There wasn’t any left on the table,” Keith said. “And I didn’t have any.”

“Me, either,” Pidge said.

“Or me.” Matt chewed on his lower lip.

Hunk certainly hadn’t touched the stuff. But he was certain at least one of the others had taken some of Shiro’s bacon just to be nice – even if they planned on throwing it away after – but they hadn’t. Lance had eaten it all.

“S’okay…” Lance groaned, curling further in on himself. “S’not your…fault…Shiro…” He grimaced, squeezing his eyes closed. “But, wow…this hurts…”

Eating that much charred food would give anyone an upset stomach. Hunk calmed a bit when he realized his best friend wasn’t actually dying. But lying out in the heat wasn’t doing him any favors. So, as carefully as he could, Hunk scooped Lance into his arms and headed for the stairs.

“I think he just needs to sleep it off,” he called over his shoulder, barely catching the others’ concerned expressions before he faced where he was going. However, he’d barely made it to the deck before he heard the creaking of footfalls on the old wood.

“He’s like this because of me,” Shiro said, quickly catching up. “Please, let me help.”

Hunk wasn’t sure what Shiro could do, but he nodded, allowing the other man to open the doors for him, so he could carry Lance inside.

Once in the living room, Hunk gently set Lance down on the couch. At which point the other groaned and turned onto his side, burying his face in the plush upholstery.

“I know it sucks,” Hunk said, dashing toward the kitchen, “but maybe next time you’ll think twice before eating a pound of burnt bacon.” Hunk regretted those words the moment they left his lips. Shiro felt awful enough and that wasn’t helping. He opened his mouth to apologize, but found that the other man was no longer following him.

After taking a moment to grab the medicine, Hunk returned to the living room to find Shiro hovering over Lance. “Lance, I’m so sorry,” he whispered, reaching his hand out, but stopping just above the other’s quivering shoulder.

“You don’t…have to apologize,” Lance wheezed, turning over and smiling up at him, though it looked rather pained. “I was happy…you cooked for me…”

Hunk, who’d started pouring the vile, pink liquid, nearly overflowed the dosage cup. He cursed himself and evened it off, making sure he didn’t give Lance too much, and then walked over toward them, clearing his throat.

“He needs to take this,” Hunk explained, handing the cup to Shiro and placing the bottle on the coffee table. “It’s not instantaneous, but it should make him feel better.” Then he turned toward Lance, dropping to one knee and brushing the other’s sweat-dampened bangs from his forehead. “I know it’s not your favorite, but you have to drink it all, okay?”

“O-Okay…”Lance promised and, just as Hunk was getting up to leave, Lance reached out, gripping his wrist. “Where…?”

“I’m going to go back outside with the others,” Hunk explained, voice still soft. “Shiro’s going to watch over you until you feel better.” He turned toward the man in question, who nodded the affirmative.

“Oh,” Lance replied, letting his eyes slip closed. “Thanks, man…”

“You got it, buddy.” Hunk eyed the other wistfully before standing up the rest of the way.

“Thank you, Hunk,” Shiro said, though his gaze was also on Lance. “I’ll take good care of him,” he promised. “And I swear I won’t try cooking again,” he added, a smile almost cracking through his worried expression.

“See that you do,” Hunk said, referring to his taking care of Lance. “And, uh, you know, see that you don’t?” He scratched his temple. He hoped Shiro would stay out of the kitchen from now on. “Just let me know if he needs anything, okay?”

“Sure,” Shiro replied, setting the medicine cup down and urging Lance to sit up so he could take it. “You go have fun with the others. I’ll take it from here.”

Hunk nodded and started to walk away. But as he reached the French doors, he looked over his shoulder, just as Shiro was tipping the cup into Lance’s mouth. His chest clenched, but he shook it off. It was better this way. Shiro had been the one to nearly poison Lance, so he should be the one to take care of him.

It was fine. And Lance would probably thank Hunk later. So, yeah. It was totally fine.

But as he walked back out onto the sand, the others inquiring as to Lance’s condition, he sure didn’t feel fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My poor, poor, pining Hunk!!  
> And now I feel even worse, since I'll be leaving this story for a couple months for my hiatus. What a bummer... I have so many plans for this AU, though, so I'm happy to write a summer fic during Fall/Winter time, haha.
> 
> Side note: I feel like Hunk would have a lot of knowledge/experience with taking Pepto, lol (the pink stomach medicine)
> 
> Anyway, see you all later!! And feel free to shout at me about this AU on tumblr any time!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! As always, let me know what you think with a comment or feel free to hit me up on my Voltron sideblog [@bleucheesy](http://bleucheesy.tumblr.com)!


End file.
